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Current Hollywood darling Marina Lowe—who has made at least five romantic comedies with the exact same plot—I would poison with a vintage bottle of champagne while she celebrates the premiere of her sixth romcom clone.
And for the cerebral horror director, Andy Lister, what better way to go out than during a screening of his own movie? I’d sneak in, thrust a stiletto through his eardrum, and then wait for the lights to come up and the screaming to begin.
Strangling the Bernardi Lion in his own bathroom would be depressingly pedestrian.
Besides, I’m on a mission.
After Leo’s stunt the other night, getting me off while insulting me, I have become rather obsessed with the idea of payback. And since Sandro has let the leash out a little more, I thought tonight might be the night. We could clean up PacSyn as foreplay, and then I’d take my revenge in Romeo’s Room, show him exactly who’s boss when it comes to...
Well, whatever we’re doing.
But I’m not quite sure how to take this conciliatory approach he’s adopted. Taking me home to his hovel? Getting me treated and medicated? Making me stay at least 24 hours to make sure I don’t slip into a coma?
I thought I was dealing with a Mob Enforcer, not Florence fucking Nightingale.
But I’ll enjoy the view for now. Leo puts on quite the show, sliding a loose-fingered hand up and down his slick shaft, eyes half-closed as he looks back at me. His chest moves up and down, up and down, faster, and he must be close.
I wonder if he’ll finish in the shower or come out here to let me suck him. My mouth waters at the thought, and I actually have to remind myself why I’m here.
Intel.
“Don’t wave that thing around in there,” I call out. “Come over here and plug it in me before you take your eye out.”
That cocky grin of his is just as delicious as every other expression I’ve cataloged on him. Rage. Irritation. Curiosity.
Even wonder.
He turns off the shower and dries rapidly, then bounces back onto the bed, still damp. “You can’t fuck,” he says, straightforward as always. “No vigorous activity, the doc said.”
“I can jack you off at a leisurely pace,” I drawl back. “No need for theatrics.” He settles in next to me, on his back, putting my hand on his dick without further argument. I hold his cock in my fist, stroking it slowly, just the way he likes it. It’s curved, veiny, hard beneath my palm. I run a thumb over his balls, rolling them gently between my fingertips. And then Leo surprises me—I really shouldn’t ever be surprised by him, not after everything—and takes my dick in his hand, too.
“Reminds me of high school,” he grunts.
“High school?”
“Oh, yeah. Always some curious jock looking to experiment.”
“I see I went to entirely the wrong schools.”
“Come on,” he snorts, stroking me harder. “As if you never got laid back then.”
“Do you remember any of them? Your conquests?”
“Not really. Some of the football players, though, they were fun to mess with. Used to make ’em steal their girlfriends’ panties, make ’em wear them while they sucked me.”
“Did you really? And did you film them for blackmail material, like you did me?”
His hand doesn’t even falter. “Nope. Just took the memories away with me.”
“That was a special event just for me, was it?” I rub a thumb over his cock head, delighting in the little spill of pre-cum from his slit.
He looks my face over, interest in his eyes. “Maybe it was,” he says enigmatically. We lay there like that for a while, leisurely working each other’s cocks, looking at each other, watching reactions. His eyelashes are dark, tapering over his cheekbones, and his lips are full, always ready to twist into a smirk of appreciation when I make a movement he particularly likes. He has dark and thick brows, straight but straggly at the ends. He has a tiny mole above the middle of the right eyebrow.
I think about how it feels to get fucked by this man, about how he takes control like it’s his God-given right. “You know,” I say idly, “you’d make a good Boss. Not many men can make me do what they want me to do.”
His eyes narrow. “If you think I’m fool enough to believe you ain’t playing me, Castellani, you’re a fucking moron.”
I laugh breathlessly as he reaches under to tug my nuts. “Oh, Leo. You have no idea. But right now I don’t care who’s playing whom. I just want to come.”
